Stepping Stones
by Adrienna
Summary: Mudclaw was always ambitious. As a kit, he dreamed of ruling, being a great cat. As an apprentice, he wanted to be as good as Tallstar-better. As a warrior, he became gradually desperate for leadership. And he knew he would get what he wanted, one way or another, no matter the price he would pay for it. Sort of AU, co-written with JavenaLou and Yoloninja. Rated T. Warnings inside.


**Stepping Stones**

Welcome to a new story ^^ this was written as a collaboration with JavenaLou and YoloNinja, who have become my FF sisters.

The Story~  
Mudclaw was always ambitious. As a kit, he dreamed of ruling, being a great cat. As an apprentice, he wanted to be as good as Tallstar-better. As a warrior, he became gradually desperate for leadership. And he knew he would get what he wanted, one way or another, no matter the price he would pay for it. Sort of AU, co-written with JavenaLou and Yoloninja.

The Authors~  
Adrienna: Drafting all the first copies of each chapter, writing the base plotline, and is also the publisher.  
JavenaLou: An editor and spellchecker, who may write some chapters of her own. Corrects grammar and spelling and makes sure the story makes sense.  
YoloNinja: Does all necessary research, making sure the story is factually correct. Also thinks up chapter titles.

Rating~ Currently T, for violence and angst, and a bit of gore. It is quite a dark fic.

Dislcaimer~ Yes, we own nothing. Wait, we do. JavenaLou owns Snowflower. Snowflower's her baby, and I'm just sad she ain't mine. I love Snowflower. Her two little kits belong to YoloNinja. I have an OC in here too, though, Amberflower. But anyhow, the Warriors series belongs to Erin Hunter, as well as most of the cats. There are a few random warriors thrown in too.

Just a warning, this little prologue is not only quite short, but very dark and twisted. You have been warned.

**Prologue~ The Arrogant Army**

The night was thick. Dark and somewhat dank, the moon misted over with layers of cloud. An almost haunting breeze hung in the winter air, whispering secrets. Telling lies.  
The mood was tense, with a strangely unwelcoming feel.  
The sleek pelted tom walked at a steady pace through the marshes, skin sliding over slabs of taut muscle. His alarmingly pointed claws lefts scores in the soft earth.  
The tom was of a reasonably normal appearance, with light brown tabby fur, and bright, warm eyes. He had a kindly look, but his body language suggested the opposite. He had a constantly menacing posture, and his voice was cold and harsh. He could have a false kindness about him, but for those who knew him well, he was nothing short of cruel.  
He knew his clan's opinion of him.  
They loathed him, always had, but were forced to act as if they loved him. He was their leader, and they had to obey him.  
He smirked to himself. If they didn't obey, he would kill them one by one. No, he wouldn't make it quick- he would drag it out. He would have them begging for mercy, as was his way.  
He would begin with the kits. The sight of such young, innocent creatures in pain was usually enough to have them asking for forgiveness. The kits were the most fun. The queens made such a fuss, while one in their midst was wailing for the life of her precious offspring.  
Then he would make certain to go for the mentors- have the apprentices watching as he displayed what he was capable of.  
Then would come the apprentices.  
He chuckled to himself, knowing how easy it would be to break them. He could step on an apprentice's tail and the wretched thing would already be pleading.  
The thoughts of slowly destroying worthless lives had the tom smiling. A sinister, sadistic smile. _Oh yes, I'll show them.  
_The tom moved towards his clan's camp. It was eerily silent. The cats had been confined to their dens in complete quiet after a silly incident involoving a she-cat eating prey away from their own territory. She of course, had been punished suitably. She was now silent too- on a very permanent basis.  
He had made it slow. He loved to punish wrongdoers. Wrongdoers were almost always resistant. It made it all the more fun. He loved the control, the power, and the twisted sense of superiority...  
It was all his. All their precious little lives, his for the taking. The cats were his, and he could do as he wished. He could kill one, just to feel blood beneath his paws. He could swipe a paw at one, for the satisfying sense of power. He could scar them, torment them, and make them all suffer. If one cat put one claw out of line, his whole clan would pay the price. Each of them would know what it meant to defy their leader, their deity.  
All cats below him were worthless, and also expendable.  
So he wasn't scared of hurting them.

Snowflower was lying with her kits curled into her body. She was an elderly queen, with white fur speckled with pale grey, and tall, pointed ears.  
Her eyes were crystalline and round like full moons.  
She had two kits- Sagekit and Ryekit.  
Sagekit was slender, with a silky white pelt and long legs. She was the more outgoing of the two, while her brother tended to be quieter.  
Ryekit was smaller, with short golden tabby fur. He was a little chubby, but he was intelligent and friendly. He looked like his father, and was even named after his father, Ryepelt.  
Snowflower lapped a rough, sandpaper tongue over the fur of Sagekit. The kits were almost old enough to be apprentices. It was only a matter of time. Less than a moon, and they would be getting mentors.  
She shuddered, wondering what mentors her leader had in store for the kits. She hoped that the training would not be rough. She had seen another apprentice being trained, and it just seemed so brutal. The mentor had just bowled the apprentice over, and clouted him whenever he failed to do training right.  
Snowflower paused, consideirng her leader. It had been dark. Their leader was not a benevolent, loving cat with pure intentions.  
He meant to treat them like complications, not as friends or family. He wanted to destroy them, taunt them, be cruel and make them watch a display of anger. He was no warrior. He was no leader. And she was hardly prepared to let him choose the fate of her and her kits. He had already decided the fate of her mate, and now her kits would live in constant doubt. A sad destiny for two so young as Sagekit and Ryekit.

The leader dragged himself up onto the smooth black rock, staring across the camp with narrowed eyes. His pelt prickled and his ears flattened. _No mercy. That is how I will live. I may have been a good cat once. That time is over. _He lifted his head with a challenging gaze at the misted stars. _Starclan, I am lost to you. You didn't even try to stop me. Perhaps you don't care enough. You are just going to stand by and let me have my way. I am evil Starclan; I do not follow your code. The forest will be coated scarlet with the blood of my clanmates-my only followers, my only rivals. And will you just sit and watch, shaking your heads and silently wishing that I would make better choices? You are meant to guide me. You can be held responsible for what will happen to my clan as much as I. This is not only my fault; your judgement is clouded just as much as mine. For even if you looked upon me, you wouldn't help me. Do you even care if what I do is wrong?  
_The leader felt like yowling his irritation up to the stars. Why was Starclan so cruel? He would have to take out his anger somehow. He would do it tomorrow, with no mercy. That was how he did things-no mercy.  
Of course, the precious Warrior Code said killing was not the way to stop a fight.  
Mudstar had never been one for following rules.


End file.
